


Shutter Clicks

by FormulaFerrari



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: M/M, Photographer!Au, Prompt Fill, camera fun ;), crosses rating T and M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 17:16:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4444985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FormulaFerrari/pseuds/FormulaFerrari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fernando is pretty certain he knows this client type to a tee. But that client seems desperate to prove him wrong</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shutter Clicks

**Author's Note:**

> This is for an anon prompt from tumblr: _**webbonso prompt:** model Mark and photographer Fernando in a sexy photoshoot_
> 
> The rating is sort of a cross between T and M but I think it's more T than M… Let me know if you think I need to change it :)
> 
> #JB17  
> \- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Are you going to have that sour look on your face all day?” Fernando rolled his eyes, continuing to adjust the lighting that was illuminating the space in front of him. He hated these jobs; he was going to get some pompous twat who told him his lighting made him look fat or he wasn’t getting his best angle or questioning if he really knew how to do his job. It was going to be one of those clients he wanted to hurl his camera at rather than take photos of. Ignoring the sigh of his manager beside him Fernando moved onto the next lamp, adjusting the height before returning to his tripod and taking some test shots. “Seriously. At least smile.” His manager tutted as Fernando took another photo of him, checking on the computer screen to his left that the lighting was Ok. Still too much from the right. Fernando crossed the room to alter the brightness of the lamp. “This is a big deal for us, Fernando.”

“I know.” Fernando sighed, crossing back to his camera. His manager folded his arms, giving him a scornful look to capture on camera.

“We don’t get jobs like this everyday.”

“Know this.” Fernando muttered, frowning at the test picture he had just taken. Maybe it was the backdrop they had chosen that didn’t look right.

“Right. Then I want happy, smiley Fernando ready in ten minutes.” His manager said, pulling his phone from his pocket. Fernando frowned over at him.

“Jenson-”

“-That’s not a smile.” Jenson interrupted, answering the call. “Jenson Button… Ahh, excellent. I’ll be right up.” Ending the call Jenson flashed his characteristic smile towards Fernando, gaining yet another eye roll from the photographer. “The magazine editor is upstairs.” He explained as Fernando started rolling up the backdrop. “I’m going to go and fetch her now.”

“Is the subject here?” Fernando asked, not hiding the boredom in his voice as he connected the different backdrop, beginning to roll it down.

“ _He_ isn’t here yet, no. He’s running a little late.”

“Of course.” Fernando muttered under his breath. Typical.

“Look through this, yeah? I’ll be back down in five minutes.” Jenson placed the client file beside Fernando’s computer before retreating from the room. Now alone Fernando audibly sighed. He connected his remote to the camera so he could continue checking the lighting on his own, with no intentions of looking over the file Jenson had left him. He hadn’t looked over it three weeks ago when it was sent to him he wasn’t about to change his mind and read it now. He hated these corporate jobs. He much preferred it when he could free lance with his camera or just be asked to go and take some photos. No restrictions and no restraints, just being allowed to do exactly what he wanted. He should be honoured that his photography had scored him this job but really he couldn’t care less. He wanted his pictures to reflect something, mean something, uncover something; not just present an idea being enforced by fake ideals. He despised this type of photography and the types of people it brought with it.

Once the lighting was all set up and ready to go Fernando scribbled a note to Jenson explaining he’d gone to get some coffee before grabbing his bag and heading out of the building. He knew if this ‘special’ client was running late already the day was about to stretch longer than he wanted it to. And if he was going to have to endure the stuck up arseholes he was about to work with for more than two hours he needed some time to himself. Using his phone he located a coffee shop a ten-minute walk away, taking the route through the park to cleanse himself for the turmoil he was about to endure.

It was a beautiful day, not one for being cooped up in a studio but for outdoors photos, photos of the sunlight breaking through the trees. As he walked, Fernando wondered if he could score some nice outdoors photos. It would at least make the day a bit more tolerable. But no, that would never happen. The editor would have an idea and it would be Fernando’s job to make that idea reality. He sighed, frown back in place, as he kicked a stone across the path he was following. Another reason he hated these jobs. He could almost hear the editor’s shrill voice screaming at him now.

By time he had made it to the coffee shop he had almost convinced himself not to return to the studio. It wasn’t above Jenson’s skills to press the button on the camera and take a photo. It’s not like they would want Fernando’s artistic eye or knowledge of composition he had spent three years studying. He wasn’t strictly needed today. The thought of being able to miss out on a foul mood was highly appetising. Standing in the small queue in the coffee shop he pulled his phone out of his pocket, ignoring the four texts and two missed calls from Jenson he scrolled through his contacts until he found his sister’s name.

“I’m sure you had a job this morning.” Lorena said as soon as she answered. Fernando shrugged, smiling lightly. Lorena could always make him smile, without fail.

“I do… Did.” Fernando stuttered, blushing a little.

“You do. You were bitching about it last night.”

“Do not bitch…” Fernando muttered, smiling at the waitress behind the counter.

“You were last night: ‘Will be such an arse, do not want to be told what to do, will never understand I am the photographer, is a degree not enough for them?’”

“Is a very bad imitation of me.” Fernando said quietly. Lorena just laughed at him.

“Why are you calling?” Lorena asked.

“What are you up to?” He questioned lightly. But Lorena saw right through it.

“No. Now get back to work.”

“Lorena…” Fernando moaned.

“I’ll meet with you after for coffee and you can bitch some more.”

“But they do not need my skills! Just want me pushing a button!”

“Then you go and push that button like no one has every pushed a button before.” Lorena smiled. Fernando just rolled his eyes. “I know you hate it but it pays really well. Is only two hours-”

“-More like six…” Fernando grumbled.

“Will be fine, Fernando. Maybe will have fun.”

“Very much doubt that.” Fernando returned, just a grumpily as he had last night.

“Call me when you are finished.”

“Ok…” Fernando agreed against his better judgement. Once Lorena had hung up the phone he slipped it back into his pocket, full frown back on his face as he waited patiently in line for his coffee. How could he make this fun when all he wanted to do was tell them all where they could shove their job? He did not want to go back. But Lorena was right; it would pay well. If he just thought about that – how much money this could earn him – he could at least make it bearable. Then he could afford that new lens he had been after. He nodded with a small smile on his face. He’d just keep thinking about that lens and he could get through whatever shit was about to be thrown at him.

“Good morning, how can I-?” The waitress who was looking at Fernando was interrupted by another man appearing beside him. Fernando frowned at the tall man who was looking expectantly at him.

“-I’m running late.” He said with a small shrug. Fernando blinked at him.

“So?” Fernando returned, catching the man out. He had opened his mouth to order. Fernando folded his arms at the man trying to cut the queue, waiting for an explanation.

“Look, I really need to be somewhere-”

“-Do we not all?” Fernando returned smoothly. The man glared at him.

“I just want to order a damned coffee.” He bit. Fernando shrugged casually.

“As do I.”

“Alright fine.” The tall man shot, grabbing a cardboard coffee holder and taking the waitress’s pen from her hands. Fernando frowned down as it was thrust into his hands, looking down at the squiggle in blue ink. “Happy now?”

“No.” Fernando said bluntly, putting the coffee holder on the counter top. “Is a queue.”

“And I explained I’m running late.” The tall man ran his hands through his hair. “What do you want? A picture?” Fernando wasn’t really following what the man was saying but he clearly thought he had some sort of priority over the rest of them in the queue to be able to jump to the front. And that didn’t sit well with Fernando at all.

“Why would I want a picture?” Fernando asked, bemused. The tall man frowned at him. But before either of them could say anything the manager of the coffee shop had come through from the back.

“Why has this man not been served yet?” The manager squeaked, a bright smile or his face as he reached a hand out for the tall man to shake. Fernando glared at him. “What is it you would like? Whatever it is, on the house.” The manager continued to smile so brightly Fernando was sure his face would split in half.

“Why, thank you.” The tall man glared at Fernando before moving down to where the manager was making his coffee. Fernando just glared at him until he had left the shop, almost forgetting his own coffee in his anger.

\- - -

“Am nearly back.” Fernando pressed. He had taken a longer route back just to try and burn off some of his anger at the coffee shop man but that had made him very late back to the studio. Jenson was livid.

“Everyone is here! We’ve only got two hours, Fernando!”

“Am sure they can stretch this time a little more. Besides if they need to start so badly you can do it.” Fernando reminded Jenson as he left the park, now only just around the corner from the studio.

“You don’t get it. This time is expensive.”

“Are the ones being paid, no?” Fernando scoffed.

“No… Fernando, you don’t get it, he’s-”

“-Am just coming downstairs now.” Fernando cut in, hanging up the phone. The last thing he wanted was Jenson kissing this guy’s arse. He’d had enough of that for one day.

When he entered the studio there was a lot more activity than there had been before he left. A lot more people were filling the small space, making it seem crowded. Fernando rolled his eyes when he noticed they had reverted back to the original backdrop he had set up. That meant he had to take more time resetting the lighting and for some reason this backdrop wasn’t working today. He glared at Jenson as the Brit rushed over to him, folding his arms.

“Are still setting up.” Jenson grabbed his arm.

“Yes but you need to be introduced to everyone.”

“Still-”

“-Come on, please. No more moody pouting. This is important.” Jenson pleaded, dragging Fernando towards the group of people in the centre of the room. With one last huff Fernando tried to force a smile on his face, however small it was. “Julie? This is Fernando, he’s our photographer.” Jenson beamed as Fernando took the woman’s hand. She was like a big ball of energy, her brunette curls bouncing around her shoulders. Clearly something had gotten her very excited.

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Fernando.” She smiled brightly. “I hope you don’t mind us changing backdrops? This one just works more with the angle we’re going for.”

“Not at all.” Fernando complied ruefully. Jenson shot him a look.

“Nah, it’s your shoot, Julie. Like I said earlier we’re here to make what you want happen.” Jenson flashed his smile again and Fernando had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at his manager’s cheesiness. “This is Ann, Mark’s manager… agent?” Jenson indicated the woman standing just behind Julie who sent Fernando a small smile, taking his hand.

“Manager, I think, is appropriate.” Ann said softly, shaking Fernando’s hand.

“Mark has just gone to get changed. He’ll be back soon.” Julie buzzed. Fernando raised an eyebrow at her.

“Mark?”

“Ha!” Jenson cut in, throwing his arm around Fernando’s shoulder. “We’ll just finish setting up…” Jenson stalled, dragging Fernando away a little. “Would it have killed you to read the file?” Jenson hissed, lowering his voice. Fernando pushed out of his hold.

“Am just here to press a button, why do I care who is on the other side?”

“Because…” Jenson exhaled, rubbing his temples. “God damn it, Fernando. It looks unprofessional.”

“Well, I do not care so-”

“-His name is Mark Webber. You have to at least have heard of him?” Jenson’s eyes were pleading but Fernando just shrugged, looking at him blankly. “Formula One driver? You know what Formula One is, right?”

“Of course.” Fernando tutted, his eyes caught by the car they were wheeling into the space.

“I sent you that file weeks ago.”

“Was busy.” Fernando said in a blasé tone.

“Everything alright over here?” Julie asked, practically hopping from one foot to the other. Clearly she was a Webber fan.

“Peachy.” Jenson beamed, his grin back on his face the moment the two women had come back over. “So what kind of thing are we after here today?”

“Well, the feature is on him winning the championship.” Julie gushed, making Fernando mentally want to calm her down – hold her shoulders to stop her bouncing. “Beat his teammate by only a couple of points, made history in his home country and he never had the backing from his team, they always backed his teammate Vettel. So really we want to capture that, the struggle, the relief, the pride. That’s why this backdrop is better, a bit more rugged.”

“Sure.” Fernando nodded, completely disagreeing with what Julie had said. The backdrop she had chosen was too much; any of the emotions she was hoping to get from Webber in this shoot were going to be lost, drowned out by the backdrop. But it most definitely wasn’t his place to say; he’s been hired only to push a button.

“We want some shots of just him in his suit, some of him with the car and then some of him on the podium.” Julie continued as if Fernando hadn’t spoken. Fernando looked over at the podium that was standing by to the edge of the studio. _Very cheesy._ Fernando thought. This was completely not how he would do it at all.

“Well, Fernando is the one with the degree in all this so he can give some pointers.” Jenson enthused.

“Uh huh.” Julie just nodded, clearly not intending to use anything Fernando said or even ask Fernando for his opinion. The moment was interrupted by the arrival of their subject. Julie gasped, causing Ann to roll her eyes. “Here he is! Mark!” Julie disappeared towards the small group at the other side of the room as Jenson turned to Fernando.

“What do you think?” Jenson muttered, all too aware Ann was still standing not to far away.

“Does it matter?” Fernando challenged. Jenson took his arm, moving him towards the computer and away from Ann.

“Of course it does. What do you think?”

“Will be shit and cheesy. But she will not listen to you.” Fernando shrugged. “So does not really matter what I say.” Jenson bit his lip.

“I’ll put the company name on them, not yours.” He assured, not wanting something Fernando wasn’t happy with to appear in the Spaniard’s portfolio.

“Thanks, I guess.”

“Fernando?” Both Jenson and he looked round as Julie called his name. “I’d like you to meet the man of the hour.” She grinned, holding her arms out to indicate the driver as if he were a prize Fernando had just won on a game show. But Fernando wasn’t smiling. And the smile that had been on the driver’s face had fallen too. At least he had the decency to blush.

“Mark, was it?” Fernando asked, holding out his hand. The man dressed in the Red Bull overalls blushed a deeper red.

“Errh, yeah…” Mark said, looking at the floor as he shook Mark’s hand.

“Am so sorry I was _late_.” Fernando laid a lot of emphasis on his last word, happily watching Mark squirm. The driver took his hand back, scratching the back of his neck.

“Don’t mention it, mate.” Mark muttered. Fernando shook his head slightly, moving towards his camera. Of course he was a jerk. Fernando didn’t know why he had assumed otherwise. A jerk that thought just because he was famous he could cut a line in a coffee shop. Fernando scoffed, fiddling pointlessly with the settings on his camera. He’d even tried to pawn him off with an autograph! Accidently, Fernando hit the shutter button, causing the area they were all standing in to flash with light. Julie shrieked in surprise.

“Sorry.” Fernando grumbled, moving over to the computer to delete the accidental photo.

“Perhaps we should get started now, yes?” Julie said, smile back in place. The small group dispersed.

“Are you OK?” Jenson asked seriously as he moved towards Fernando. Fernando just nodded.

“Let us just get this over with.” He scowled, moving back towards his camera. _Just keep thinking about that new lens_. Fernando willed himself as he took the first test shots of Mark.

\- - -

They were on a lunch break and Fernando had opted out of joining them, deciding to go through the photos they’d already taken instead, hating each one of the cheesy images. Jenson had agreed to take them all to their local around the corner, selling it on it’s brilliant fish and chips. Fernando looked up, raising an eyebrow as the cup of coffee slid across the desk towards him. An urge to throw the contents of the coffee cup at the sheepish smile in front of him was strong, but he wouldn’t stoop that low.

Well, maybe he would.

“Is fish and chips not good enough for the great Mark Webber? Or were you worried would be more lines you had to cut?” Fernando snapped, deleting yet another image, his eyes back on the screen in front of him.

“Look, I’m really sorry about that, mate.” Mark tried, pulling a chair up in front of Fernando. Fernando still didn’t look at him, still flicking through the increasingly tacky photos he had been forced to take. “But I was running late.”

“Is no excuse.” Fernando said sharply. “Just because people know your name does not make you special. People know my name but I do not use it to cut through lines.”

“People know your name?” Mark asked curiously. Fernando shot him a glare.

“Why do you even care?”

“I’m…” Mark relented under Fernando intense look. “Mate, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it. I don’t usually…”

“Liar.” Fernando muttered under his breath, turning back to the screen. He wasn’t sure if Mark had heard him or not but if he had the Australian didn’t react to it.

“What are you doing?” Mark asked, brushing over the tension and scooting his chair closer to Fernando.

“Going through… These.”

“You’re not happy with them?” Mark asked with a small frown, his head tilted slightly to one side like a curious child. Fernando just blinked at him.

“It does not matter what I think.”

“Doesn’t it?” Fernando didn’t get this guy. He didn’t understand him one little bit. He infuriated him non-fold but for some reason he’d peaked his interest. And Mark seemed to be genuinely interested in him too. Fernando didn’t understand it.

“Is what the editor wants.”

“But you’re the photographer.” He could see Mark was confused. Though that did make sense. A man who got everything he wanted wouldn’t understand why sometimes that wasn’t possible.

“Am just paid to press the button.” Fernando shrugged, more shocked when Mark came closer still.

“So what’s wrong with it?” Mark frowned, scrutinising the photo of him Fernando had been looking at. It was a full-length shot of him with the car in the background and the street alley backdrop filling the empty space. Fernando sat back, folding his arms.

“You tell me.” The tone of Mark’s voice made it seem like the Australian couldn’t see anything wrong and it irked Fernando. Now he just sat back, waiting for the driver who knew nothing about photography to think he knew more about his job than Fernando did.

“Well…” Mark chewed on his lip, studying the photo closely. “There’s a lot going on.” Fernando was frowning before he could stop himself, sitting forwards.

“What?” He was looking at Mark, not the screen. He hadn’t realised how close they were until Mark sat back a little, blushing slightly.

“I… I sort of disappear don’t I? It’s… A lot of colour.” Fernando blinked, dumbfounded. “Or have I just said something that makes me look like more of a twat?” The small laugh that was pulled from Fernando wasn’t intentional but it felt natural. And it brought out the most beautiful smile on Mark’s lips.

“No… No is exactly what I think.” Fernando admitted.

“You should have said.”

“Is really not my place.” Fernando sighed, skipping to the next photo. He openly wrinkled his nose at it now he knew Mark was on the same page as him.

“So how would you have done it?” Mark had caught him out again. And he was sure he was sitting closer now.

“Sorry?”

“How would you have done the shoot, if it had been your place to say something?” Mark winked, causing Fernando to blush slightly. He didn’t understand what was happening. He should hate this guy, he _did_ hate this guy but now he was making him laugh and smile and _blush_. Fernando suddenly felt very off balance.

“I put it on the white.” Fernando said, throwing himself into the conversation he was comfortable and knowledgeable about. “Use the lighting and you, not these silly props.”

“Yeah?” Mark looked captivated, but Fernando wasn’t sure if he was just seeing that because he was finally getting to have his say.

“Do a lot in black and white, use the contrast and the lines on your face.”

“Oi. I’m not that old, mate.” Mark teased.

“No…” Before Fernando could stop himself his finger was dragging down the line of Mark’s cheekbone, the brush of stubble under the pad of his finger making his stomach do loops. “These lines.”

“Uh huh…” Mark’s voice was quiet. Fernando snatched his finger back, turning away slightly.

“And… And have you on the podium, but sitting, not like this.” Fernando scrolled through the images on the computer until he found the ones of Mark with the champagne bottle, standing on the top step. “People already see you like this. Would show you more thoughtful, more pensive. And then the car-”

“-You’re quite passionate about this, aren’t you.” Mark acknowledged. Fernando blushed again.

“Is what I do. Like am sure you are passionate about your driving and your car. Would show this too. And would not have you only in your suit but also in casual clothes. Because are not just a race driver but a person too.” Fernando bit hard on his lip, trying to stop the heat pooling on his face. He couldn’t deny that Mark was attractive. Looking at him through the lens of his camera gave him more than enough excuses to stare at him. And the monotonous directions of Julie allowed his head to just imagine Mark. It had been easier to banish the thoughts when he just assumed Mark was a jerk who used his fame to get what he wanted but somehow that didn’t seem true. Mark seemed desperate to rectify Fernando’s first impression of him and it caused the Spaniard to be intrigued as to why he cared so much.

“OK, done.”

“Am sorry?” Fernando frowned.

“I want you to do that. Just like you just said.”

“But is not what the editor wants.”

“Fuck what the editor wants. It’s my shoot, no, our shoot. You were hired I think you should be allowed to use your creativity.” Mark said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Fernando felt completely lost. “Plus your ideas sound a lot better than this, no offence.”

“Do not have time.”

“We have an hour now?” Mark pointed out. But Fernando shook his head.

“Is not enough, not really. Is nice of you to suggest but is not practical.”

“Ok, how long do you need?” Fernando frowned at Mark, not really sure where he was going with this. “Two hours? Will that be enough?”

“I… I guess…”

“Ok.” Mark gave one nod before returning to his phone. “We’ve got two hours.” He declared a moment later, putting his phone down on the desk. Fernando really wasn’t following.

“Wha-?”

“-I told my agent some of the shots didn’t come out.” Mark tapped his phone to indicate what he was talking about. “And you don’t need everyone bustling around to redo some shots, do you?” Mark was smiling lightly but Fernando still felt like he was stumbling in the dark. Seeing the confusion on the photographer’s face Mark clear his throat, blushing a little. “I’ve gotten us more time.”

“Ok…” Fernando said slowly. “But why?”

“Because I like your idea.” Mark had that soft smile on his face again and it was causing Fernando’s head to fuzz, thoughts he hadn’t allowed himself to think for a very long time pushing to the front of his mind. “What?” Mark’s voice snapped Fernando’s eyes from his lips to his eyes. “Is there something on my face?”

“No.” Fernando said in a voice that did not sound normal. It pulled a frown across Mark’s face. “We… Short on time.” Fernando blustered, getting to his feet. Mark followed him.

“Right.”

“Need to set up.” Fernando broke away from Mark, needing a moment to calm himself down, get out of Mark proximity so he could just breathe. Mark was a jerk, an obnoxious celebrity who wasn’t above using his status to get what he wanted. Irrelevant to anything he said or did he didn’t really care about his photos. In fact, Fernando couldn’t place why Mark even wanted to do any more shots. Rolling up the street alley backdrop Fernando forced himself to think of Mark as the dickhead in the coffee shop and nothing else. _First impressions count_ he reminded himself. He just had to remember how much of a jerk he was.

Mark hadn’t meant to stumble upon the photos of Fernando. He had just been looking through the ones they had taken in the original shoot when he came to the end. He swallowed, hard, when the four pictures of Fernando against a white backdrop came into view. Sure, they were just test photos, but the different lighting captured different parts of him subtly and highlighted them. Mark’s favourite was the last one. He could see exactly what Fernando meant about the white background being able to pull so much out of a simple photo. He suddenly realised he was stroking Fernando’s face on the computer screen and forced himself away looking up to see what the real man was doing. Ann had explained the situation to him, how him being attracted to men was not allowed to go public; how much that would damage his image. Red Bull would no doubt drop him and then he’d be without a seat. He worked so hard to get where he was he wasn’t going to throw it all away just because of a silly little thing like being gay. He’d managed to repress his feelings for years. But one photographer was doing his upmost to unhinge all that work.

“You ever thought of being in front of the camera?” Mark asked, moving away from the computer and towards Fernando. The Spaniard was trying to move the podium out of the way to clear the space but it was clear he was having a hard time. Fernando shot him a glare as he tried to help him push the podium out o the way.

“What are you doing?” Fernando snapped, slightly out of breath. Mark raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m helping.”

“Right. Fine.” Fernando bit, his jaw locked tight. Together they pushed the podium back to the side of the room. Fernando was trying so hard to continue to hate Mark but it just wasn’t happening. He wanted to touch his face again. And a whole load of other stuff that his brain kept coming up with, however much he tried to stop it.

“So… Where do you want me?” Mark asked gently, trying to break through the weird tension that had filtered back into the room. He watched Fernando plug the remote into his camera before walking in front of it.

“If you change back into your suit.” Fernando directed, almost glaring at the camera and he filled the small space with a flash of light. However, the expression dropped off his face when Mark nodded and pulled his shirt over his head. “W-what are you doing?” Fernando stammered, unable to stop his eyes raking Mark’s back as he turned around, following the delicious line of his spine to where it was cut of by his jeans. He blushed furious as Mark turned around to face him, catching Fernando openly ogling his body.

“You said to change.” Mark shrugged; loving the rush of warmth Fernando’s gaze filled him with.

“I thought…” Fernando didn’t finish his statement, just pointing half-heartedly towards the changing room Mark had used earlier.

“It’s just the two of us. I didn’t think it would be an issue. I can go-”

“-No… No is fine.” Fernando rushed; trying desperately to focus on setting up the lighting and not on Mark slowly revealing more and more expanses of tanned skin. The flashes of light simple became background noise when Mark stood completely naked for a moment. His back was to Fernando, yes, but that didn’t change the fact he was very much exposed and taking no means to cover himself. “Do you do that in the car?” Curiosity got the better of him, and when he saw Mark pulling on his fireproof underwear without any other underwear the question leapt from his mouth.

“Hey?” Mark frowned, not understanding as he turned back to Fernando, now with his nomex race suit tied around his waist. Fernando considered bailing out of the question but he found he wanted to know the answer quite badly.

“Wear nothing…” Fernando couldn’t finish the question but it seemed Mark had understood anyway.

“Yeah, it’s more comfortable. Nothing rubs.” He shrugged, as if his answer wasn’t going to fuel Fernando’s fantasies for a very long time. Now flustered, Fernando tried to carry on setting up, moving towards the computer. “Why? See something you like?” Mark winked. Fernando spun around so fast, the denial rushing to his lips but he caught his head on the lamp he had been walking passed, making a loud bang. Mark was by his side in seconds. “Shit, are you Ok?” The teasing, flirting tone was replaced with concern as Mark moved Fernando’s hand to check the back of his head.

“Fine…” Fernando muttered, pushing away from Mark. He stopped by the computer and took a deep breath. _Was Mark flirting with him?_ Fernando shook the thought from his head. No, Mark couldn’t be flirting with him. He probably had girls throwing themselves at him on a regular basis. Plus he was a jerk (though the last thought no longer had much conviction).

“Sure?” Mark was getting closer. Fernando moved round so he was actually looking at the computer, throwing himself into his work.

“Yup.” He said quickly, looking at the photo of him he had just taken. Nodding to himself about the lighting he straightened up. “So if we start with you just in the space.” Fernando told the floor, moving back towards his camera.

“Alright.” Mark nodded, following behind Fernando. “Doing what?”

“Nothing.” Fernando shrugged, startling Mark as he took the first photo. Mark frowned at him.

“I thought you wanted emotions and lines of my face in black and white?”

“I do.” Fernando nodded, taking yet another photo. Mark was beyond confused. “But that is for me to find. Are my composition.” Fernando explained, zooming slightly closer. When Mark cocked an eyebrow at him Fernando smiled, stealing the look to commit it as an image forever.

“So I just stand here?”

“You can talk to me.” Fernando encouraged. He knew the best way to get what he wanted was to have Mark offering it up without even knowing he was.

“Talk to you?”

“Tell me about the last lap, just before you win.” Fernando requested lightly. When Mark folded his arms he looked over the top of the camera at him.

“I know what you’re doing.”

“Do not.” Fernando said casually, moving back behind the viewfinder.

“You want me to relive the last lap so it shows on my face.” Mark said, pointing to his chin. Fernando rested his arm on top of the camera, looking across at Mark again and forcing his eyes not to wonder down to what was covered by almost only nomex. He swallowed, focusing on the photos and not the man.

“No. I do not see this race. I want to hear about it. Everyone else is raving about what you do. Let us say I do not understand.” Fernando smiled before disappearing behind the viewfinder. Mark let out a sigh; it was the same thing all the interviewers asked him. _How did you feel when you beat Sebastian? What were you feeling when you crossed the line? How does it feel to make history in the sport? History for your country? Explain it in three words. Explain in in one word._ Mark was sick of going over it all if he was honest. “What are you thinking about?”

“Huh?” Mark looked back towards Fernando who was now standing by the computer again.

“What were you thinking about?”

“Just… Same old shit, mate.” Mark shrugged. “Everyone always asks me the same thing, you know?”

“And this gets tiring?” Fernando questioned, moving back to the camera. Mark nodded. “So then tell me what you always want to be asked.”

“It’s a good thing you’re not an interviewer because you don’t make much sense.” Mark commented, not ready for the small chuckled it pulled from Fernando. He couldn’t help the smile growing on his face at the sound.

“What about your girlfriend? How does she feel about what you achieve?”

“I don’t know, considering she doesn’t exist.” Mark commented casually. Fernando swallowed, stepping over it.

“What makes you vulnerable?” Fernando detached the camera from the tripod, moving closer to Mark. Mark’s eyes were a little wider than usual.

“Vulnerable?”

“I feel and it looks like you hold back.” Fernando explained, tapping his camera. “How do I get you to-?”

“-Show the ‘real Mark Webber’?” Mark sniped sarcastically. How many photographers/editors had yelled that at him in the past? But Fernando shook his head.

“Relax.”

“You think I’ll relax if I’m vulnerable?” Mark could not make those two add up. Fernando didn’t answer, just moving closer until the lens was focused on Mark’s face. “What are you doing?” Mark didn’t realise he was whispering, but the tension and the mood in the room seemed so fragile it might snap. The lights flashed a few more times before Fernando moved again.

“Maybe vulnerable is the wrong word…” Fernando mused as he checked the computer. “Maybe I mean comfortable.”

“Comfortable makes more sense.” Mark nodded as Fernando moved back to him. His breath caught as the Spaniard continued to get closer. “What are you doing now?”

“Details.” Fernando muttered, focusing on exactly it was that he was doing and not the man he was taking photos of. He bit his lip hard when Mark’s hand brushed his arm. He would have ignored it but when it happened a second time it didn’t seem accidental.

“You wanted me comfortable.” Mark explained as Fernando stared at his now white-coloured material-covered torso. His soft chuckle had Fernando’s cheeks blushing brightly as he stole his eyes away, fiddling with his camera.

“Cool… Good… Yes, is good…”

“So what made you choose England?” Mark asked lightly, almost seeming like a different person now. Fernando watched him, bemused, as he pulled the podium back into the space and took a seat on the top step, his feet just hanging off the floor. “What made you leave the sunny skyline of your hometown.” The way Mark paused was almost a beg for Fernando to fill in the blank.

“Oviedo, Spain.” He said, snapping another picture of Mark.

“Right. So what made you leave sunny Oviedo for Frosty England.”

“Is not frosty.” Fernando laughed lightly, glad the awkwardness of a couple of minutes ago seemed to have disappeared. It didn’t mean he wasn’t using his camera as a beautiful veil to stare openly at Mark’s clearly muscular torso, highlighted now by the snug, fitted undershirt he was wearing.

“Is compared to were I come from.”

“Yes, you come far.”

“Well, a championship-winning car wasn’t coming to me, was it mate.” Mark pointed out. Fernando got the feeling he was ready for that question.

“This is true.”

“So you? What’s here that isn’t in Spain?”

“Work.” Fernando said breezily, all the while his brain screaming at him to tell Mark the truth. It’s not like Mark wasn’t aware of how flustered he was making him. Fernando was sure he’d put two and two together by now. But being a successful Formula One driver he was clearly used to the attention. That thought made Fernando feel insignificant.

“Fair enough. Not much photography work out in Spain?”

“Is some… More opportunities here.” Why would Fernando open up to a stranger anyway? It didn’t matter that he was lying, even if it was making him feel terrible. He crossed the room, grabbing Mark’s helmet before walking it back over to him. Mark stood to meet him half way and Fernando was certain his race suit was sitting much lower on his hips now.

“Ever thought about being the other side of the lens?” Mark’s voice had become quieter and he tapped Fernando’s camera lightly as he asked the question. Fernando took the photo anyway, but barely noticed as he was frowning up at Mark.

“No. Why would I?”

“Because you’re a natural.” Mark said lightly, a small smile on his face. Fernando couldn’t resist stealing a copy of it, disguising it with a scoff. “What? You are.”

“This side.” Fernando corrected, indicating to where he was standing. Mark shook his head. Before Fernando had a chance to argue Mark had plucked the camera from his hands and snapped a shot of him. “What are you doing!”

“Proving myself right.” Mark smiled, angling to take another. Fernando held his hands out, blocking the photo.

“The lighting will be all wrong.” Fernando whined, trying to get the camera back. Mark just caught his arm, spinning them round so Fernando was now under the lights. Another flash caught Fernando’s spectacular pout.

“Just relax.” Mark giggled, aiming the lens once again at Fernando.

“Am supposed to be taking the photos.”

“Yes, but it’s my shoot.” Mark winked, taking yet another photo. “Plus, I’m proving myself right.”

“Have had your fun now.” Fernando tried yet again to get his camera back but Mark took a step away from him, snapping away. “Is not funny!”

“Calm down and relax. Or you’re not showing me the real you.” Fernando could have definitely shoved the camera down his throat for that one. “Sit down.” With a huff, Fernando complied. He would play along for a bit just so Mark would see how wrong he was and then they could carry on with what they were actually supposed to be doing. “And smile.” Mark tutted. Fernando forced a smile but Mark wasn’t having it. “Talk to me.” Mark said gently, lowering the camera. Fernando folded his arms.

“Are being stupid.” He huffed. Frowning round at the sound Fernando turned to see Mark sitting cross-legged in front of him, taking a picture of his feet that were a good few inches from the ground.

“You’re short.” Mark giggled, turning the camera up to face Fernando. Fernando unknotted his arms, leaning forwards.

“You are tall.”

“Good observations there, mate.” Mark smiled. “I’m surprised you haven’t needed to stand on a stall.”

“Am not that short.” Fernando pouted.

“So what made you pick photography?” Mark asked, lights flashing around them. Fernando sighed, sitting back.

“Defiance.”

“Oh?”

“Hmm… Pa- erm… My father… He wanted me to be a doctor.”

“Doctor Fernando…” Mark mused, letting the mental image settle in his head. Oh yes, he liked that.

“Alonso…” Fernando muttered quietly, swinging his feet a little. He was looking down at his trainers as the lights continued to flash, no longer aware of exactly what Mark was taking photos of.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Fernando shook his head. When he looked up he wasn’t ready for Mark to be so close. His breath stuck in his throat. “W-what are you doing now?”

“Details…” Mark murmured, backing up slightly so he could catch the light against Fernando’s jaw. The Spaniard swallowed as Mark place the camera down beside him, trapping him in place with his arms.

“So you’re dad wanted you to be a doctor, and you chose to take photos.” Mark clarified, standing pretty much in Fernando’s personal space.

“Is my passion.”  Fernando whispered, pressing his fingers tightly into the podium step he was sitting on so he didn’t reach forwards and touch Mark. Though he was quite relieved he was sitting down.

“Hmm…” Fernando nearly broke his fingers through the tightness of which he was holding the top step as Mark scrapped at a bit of paint on his jeans. “And I bet your dad wasn’t too happy about that decision.”

“Papa is not happy about a lot of decisions I make.” Fernando said, his brain a fuzz to the filter that would stop him spewing his life story.

“Is that why you’re here?” Fernando forced his eyes open, staring at the curiosity in the Australian’s eyes.

“Here?”

“England.”

“Oh…” Fernando didn’t talk to anyone about his decision to permanently leave his roots behind him. It was still all too hard, all too fresh. He could feel the emotion building in the back of his throat, stinging his eyes. “I…”

“I think I know the answer.” Mark admitted, seeing the sparkle in Fernando’s eyes and not wanting to be the one to push the moisture onto his cheeks. “Sorry.”

 

“Is… Is Ok…” Fernando dropped his head but Mark’s finger soon encouraged him to look up again.

“I’m…” The word stuck in Mark’s throat. He wanted to just say it. To be able to finally admit it to someone and not have to worry about ramifications. And this felt right, it felt like the time to say it but he couldn’t. He’d trained himself for years that it just wasn’t true but he knew it was. Being here right now with Fernando made him know it was. A frown was appearing on Fernando’s face, waiting for the end of Mark’s sentence. Throwing all caution to the wind Mark closed the gap between them, pressing their lips together roughly and weaving his fingers into Fernando’s hair. Right now he couldn’t care less about rejection, he couldn’t care less about this not being what Fernando wanted. He wanted it, _needed_ it. And he was stealing this opportunity with both hands.

Fernando kissed him back just as feverishly, wrapping his legs around Mark’s waist to pull him closer, but in their combined efforts Fernando ended up falling backwards, Mark in hot pursuit. He barely had time to breathe before Mark’s lips were back on his, seeking any sign of weakness to gain entry to his mouth. Fernando’s hands clawed at Mark’s back, dragging his fireproof shirt higher to expose his skin to the room, before they dove downwards, bypassing the nomex to seek confirmation of what Mark had said earlier. Feeling his warm skin and no material was bliss and Fernando felt lightheaded at the sensation. They both gasped as their groins rutted together, sending the sound echoing through the space. On the sound they both fell away from each other, Fernando breathing heavily whilst Mark gazed down at him in admiration. Mark kissed Fernando’s nose gently, causing the softest smile to decorate Fernando’s features.

The flash of the lights pulled Fernando from his hazy state.

“I’m sorry… You just look perfect. I couldn’t…” Mark’s brain was clearly mushed as well; his mouth couldn’t quite keep up with the words he was trying to say. Fernando took the camera in his own hands, reluctantly letting go of Mark, spinning it around to capture Mark above him. Mark suddenly stepped away from him, letting his feet smack heavily back against the podium. Fernando sat up to see Mark pulling his shirt above his head and moving back towards him, like a lion stalking it’s prey. He took the picture without thinking about it, allowing his free hand to curl around Mark’s back as their lips met again.

“That better not end up in any magazines.” Mark growled, teasingly, as he crawled on top of Fernando.

“Am not so sleazy.” Fernando returned between kisses with a wink. When Mark’s fingers started fiddling with the fastening of his jeans Fernando grabbed his wrist, shaking his head. “No.” He grabbed Mark before he could shrink away though, keeping him close. “Is not that I do not want.” Fernando explained, lying back and keeping Mark above him. He stroked tenderly at Mark’s face, loving the way Mark melted into his touch. “Do not want to get you caught.”

“So considerate.” Mark said, his eyes raking Fernando’s body as he was unable to hide the disappointment in his voice.

“Mark.” Fernando said, rolling on his accent thick and watching Mark visibly shiver in pleasure. “Is best. Do not want to get you in trouble.” Fernando knew how tough the world was on them; he’d seen it from his family and past colleagues. So much so he left the country in search of a fresh start where no one knew that about him. He didn’t want Mark to have to face what he had. Mark wanted to scream fuck them but Fernando was right. Instead he took the camera back, brushing his hand up under Fernando’s shirt.

“Ok… At least let me…” Mark didn’t wait for approval or to finish his statement, pushing Fernando’s shirt up to reveal his stomach. Mark groaned, unable to keep it in as he shot picture after picture of tanned skin, chasing each one with a chaste kiss.

“Mark…” Fernando gasped, arching slightly into Mark’s touch. He couldn’t contain the moan when Mark sucked determinedly on his hip, leaving the bruise like mark to shine on Fernando’s skin. Linking his fingers with Fernando’s he positioned their hands next to the love bite, taking one last picture before letting Fernando go.

“You should really consider being a model, mate. I’d pay good money to see you in next to nothing.”

“You would pay me?” Fernando raised his eyebrow as he sat up, taking the camera back from Mark. Mark bit his lip.

“That came out wrong.”

“I know.” Fernando laughed, kissing Mark’s nose before hopping off the podium. “I think we carry on now.” Fernando muted the shared want to remove more clothing by handing Mark back his shirt. He dropped it on the podium with his helmet, loving the feel of Fernando’s eyes on him.

“So, do you want this any lower, or…” Mark asked seductively, unzipping his race suit more. Fernando bit his lip.

“I think you say you do not want sleazy photos in this magazine.” Fernando asked, trying to keep his voice sounding normal. Mark just laughed softly, leaving his race suit obscenely low on his hips, shamelessly displaying the trail of hair on his stomach that disappeared just below the purple nomex.

“Maybe some for the personal collection then.” Mark winked, leaning back on the podium. “And I do expect you to, at some point, return the favour.” Fernando shivered pleasantly at the thought, consenting his agreement as he lifted the viewfinder back to his eye.

\- - - - -

It had been a few weeks since Mark’s photo shoot. In which time Fernando had emailed and edited the photos to Julie and had done several other shoots since. Lorena had instantly noticed a difference in Fernando when she next saw him, but he had returned smoothly that it was because Julie had selected some of the photos he had taken with Mark to go in the magazine, thus actually listening to him (some of the ones where Mark had all of his clothes on, mind). Fernando found himself staring at those photos sometimes, the ones only Mark and he knew existed. Mark had a true eye for this sort of thing. Some of the photos he had captured were amazing. Some way to explicit and had lead to an awkward conversation with Jenson when his manager came around to see what was taking him so long with the shoot edits.

But he hadn’t seen Mark since. He had no way of contacting him (they wouldn’t have been able to change contact details without raising suspicion) so Fernando had written it off. A wonderful moment shared with another human being having to hide in the shadows. And that’s what it always would be. A beautiful fantasy with photographic basis. He knew now, as he knew during the shoot, getting involved with Mark would be too complicated anyway, so there was no point in pursuing it. A pipe dream that in an ideal world they could make come true. But with Mark’s job and status it was impossible.

“Parcel.” Jenson said, walking passed Fernando’s desk and dropping his post beside him. Fernando turned away from the pregnancy photos he had taken for Jenson and his wife a few days ago to look through his post. “Probably that magazine. They said they would send a copy our way.” Fernando just nodded, fingers stalling on opening the envelope until Jenson had disappeared into his office. Fernando knew that wasn’t what this was because he had seen that go into Jenson’s office a couple of days a go. He’d been meaning to go and have a look at it but he’d not managed to find the chance. With a deep breath Fernando pulled open the envelope, tipping the contents out in front of him. A memory stick and a copy of the F1 magazine with Mark on the front sat on his desk. The editor had picked one of the stupid ones they had taken in the initial shoot with Mark on the podium. But Fernando’s attention was on the post-it note.

_Wasn’t sure if you’d seen it. Check out page 17 ;)_

Quickly Fernando flicked through the glossy pages until he hit the page that was highlighted to him. He couldn’t help but laugh as he saw the photo of his own scruffy trainers hanging a couple of inches from the floor as he sat on the podium. Clearly whoever selected the photos hadn’t realised they weren’t Mark’s feet. Rifling through the rest of the article Fernando noticed that the only picture from the initial shoot that had been used was the one on the front cover (which also was a front cover for the article). The rest were the soft ones Mark and he had taken after everyone had left. He proudly looked down at his own name at the bottom of the page, dedicating the photos to be his own work.

He was about to close the magazine up when the second post-it note caught his attention.

_Pretty nice, eh? Told you you knew what you were doing. My favourites are on the stick ;)_

Fernando’s eyes travelled to the memory stick that didn’t seem to be so innocent anymore. He swallowed dryly, picking it up with shaky hands. God knows what he was about to find on here. But he knew he had given Mark _all_ of the photos. Without a second thought the memory stick was loading onto his desktop.

Mark hadn’t held back in his selection, clearly choosing the most explicit ones of himself that had Fernando chewing desperately on the inside of his cheek. The ones with Mark just in his fire proof trousers, showing very clearly that there was nothing else on under them. Fernando thank his lighting choices for that as he scrolled through, feeling himself get more and more turned on as he did.

The last one caught him out though. He had seen himself scattered through Mark’s choices but the last one he could remember Mark taking. Their fingers, locked together on his hip with that mark on his hip that Fernando is determined to believe he can still feel. It black and white, as Fernando had edited it, the love bite seemed to glow off his skin, his jeans pulled low enough to see the dip of his hips, the natural V in his skin disappearing out of the frame. It was his favourite, and considering the file name was the only one with an asterisk in it he safely assumed it was Mark’s favourite as well.

Fernando’s phone suddenly burst into life, forcing him to look away from the photos and close down the photo browser. He pulled the memory stick out as a precaution and pushed it into his pocket, answering the phone to the unknown number.

“Fernando Alonso.” Fernando said, his mind still burning with all the pictures of Mark.

“You own me some photos.” Fernando couldn’t help the grin spreading across his face as he recognised the Australian accent.

“Do I now?”

“Yes. I’m sure we agreed on a tit for tat situation.”

“Hmm…” Fernando said airily. “Is nothing in my diary.”

“Good. Then you can come to lunch with me. We can discuss how your feet ended up in an article about me.” Fernando blushed, glancing towards Jenson.

“Suppose I could take my lunch break now.”

“Did you get my parcel?”

“Hmm… Was just looking at it.”

“Then you’re going to need to bring your camera to lunch.”

“You think we are taking pictures like this in a café?”

“No, we’ll go back to mine. I’m not actually very hungry.”

“No.” Fernando agreed, his body already buzzing in anticipation. “Neither am I.”

 

_~El Fin~_

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it :) And I hope you don't think everything just suddenly spun on it's head… I was a little worried about that :)


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